tell me something u dig about me on anon

please

Yeah, why not? You like movies, I like movies, it seemed like a good idea when I had it. Both is excellent, let’s do both! As long as I can keep you from crying, I’m all good.

You're taking me out to the movies? Are you taking me on a date Nathaniel Callaghan? 

We can have a Marvel movie marathon again? Guardians of the Galaxy comes out next weekend, and I’ll take you? I mean, throw me a bone here, which would be better?

You're gonna take me to the movies? Also why can't we do both? Both is good.

Well, shit, why didn’t you just say so! You know I’m just as into Comic Con as you are, maybe not to the Christmas in July point but probably pretty close. You gonna be in this good a mood all weekend? Last year you cried for three days when it was over.

THE GOOD MOOD WILL PERSIST. I might cry again. You'll have to find some way to distract me so that doesn't happen.

Well, hey there, weirdo. What’s got you so giggly? Do I have food on my face again?

Nathaniel. It is Comic Con weekend. I'm giggly because it's my Christmas!

His first thought was that she was probably the only person in the world who could call him by his full name and not have to listen to him complain about it for the next hour. He usually hated it, but coming from Gracie it just felt familiar. He pinched the bridge of his nose, “I got jealous.” He muttered finally, averting his eyes to the far wall for a good minute before he decided to elaborate, “Just— the thought of that guy— of him-” He ran a hand though his hair roughly out of sheer agitation, “If I think about anyone… being with you, like that, I— it drives me crazy, okay? And you’re my best friend, and I shouldn’t be jealous if you’re happy about it because that would make me a total dick and I’m really not trying to be a dick.” His words came out in a rush and he hoped Grace would be able to follow because the thought of repeating all of that made him anxious.

Immediately wrinkling her nose, Grace laughed when he finished talking. Not necessarily because what he was saying was amusing, but because she could have guessed that eons ago if he had given her any more clues. "You're jealous? Nate!" Her eyes bore into his, still smiling she shook her head. "Okay well for starters there's no way he could ever make me happy. I just-yeah. No. No way, Jose." Tilting her head to the side she squeezed his hand again. "But your jealousy makes sense. I've...gotten jealous....of other girls before. Ones you were friends with." She hadn't told anyone that, not a single person. And now she was telling Nate.

He quirked an eyebrow, his expression contorting almost instantly, “Of course I would. I’d do absolutely anything for you, Grace. I figured you knew that by now.” His words are slow and deliberate, and he wants her to know he means every single one of them. He would drop everything at any time if it meant that he was helping Grace in some way or another, he was so dedicated to her it was almost laughable but he couldn’t imagine it being any other way. He nearly flinched when she spoke again, mentally cursing himself six ways to Sunday for even mentioning it at all - she could read him like a book even when he wasn’t trying to keep anything to himself, it was almost a given she’d be able to when he was.

He sighed lowly and picked at a thread on his t-shirt, feeling his words catch in his throat until swallowing past them was the only thing he could focus on, “I—” He frowned, “I don’t know if I can.” Fuck, why couldn’t he just stop being such a chicken about everything?

Without hesitating, Grace reached out and grabbed Nate's hand in hers. She grinned and gave it a reassuring squeeze. They were always physically close, sometimes even snuggling. People and friends thought they were a couple, but that wasn't the case. They had all the components of being together, apart from the actual...being togetherness. Her thumb gently ran over the back of his hand and she raised her eyebrows at him. "You don't know if you can finish the sentence? Nathaniel James, that's silly. C'mon. Spit it out." 

He laughed again when she scrunched her nose and nodded slowly, “Yeah, that thing. I think it’s adorable.” He shrugged like he was only stating some simple fact of the universe and grinned at her final comment, “If that’s all you want me to do, it’s no problem.” He paused for a moment, his smile falling in increments until his expression was blank save for the fact that he couldn’t stop worrying his lip between his teeth. “I do care,” He announced after a long moment of silence, “About you. I mean, obviously I care about you— that was a stupid thing to say. I shouldn’t have snapped at you but I thought about—” He stopped speaking almost immediately, and the rest of his words filtered through his thoughts, ‘I thought about someone else touching you and it drove me crazy.’

"You don't have to do that." Grace shook her head, a piece of hair falling in her face. "Would you, though? Like you would actually do that for me?" That was a stupid question and the blonde knew it. She and Nate would do anything for each other. She just liked hearing him say it. His silence made her stomach twist with anxiety, the butterflies fading away to a sick pit of nerves. It felt like there was something he wasn't saying, and that bothered Grace. They shared everything. Nate knew her social security number because one time he filled out a school form for her. They shared everything, all the time. "Finish the sentence, Nate."

He cracked a smile that made his eyes brighten, “I think that you might be slightly crazy, but I’m happy to hear it.” He swallowed roughly, resting his hands on either side of Grace to steady himself before he met her eyes. “It’s really cute when you do that scrunchy nose thing, have I ever told you that?” It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to compliment each other - they were affectionate people and even more affectionate friends but even admitting anything of that sort at that moment made Nate feel like he was going to pass out. “And I’m sorry for being a dick, you don’t deserve that. From anyone, and especially not from me. I’m prepared to grovel, for the record. If you want me to.”

For Nate, Grace could be crazy. For Nate she could be any number of things, and crazy was absolutely one of them. She let go of her legs and let them sort of fall into a crossed position. Leveling her gaze on Nate, she scrunched her nose when he complimented her. "You mean this thing?" A laugh bubbled up and she shrugged. Nate always liked telling her nice things, it was one of her favorite things about him, but for some reason now it made her stomach feel all...bubbly. "It's okay. I mean...it's not okay but you're hungover, so I get it. No need to grovel. Just call me Khaleesi for like, a week."

"No, that’s not—" He lurched to his feet, as if to further the point he’d wanted to make, immediately pausing and taking a shaky breath as the carpet spun beneath his feet. Hangovers were not good for him. "That’s not what I meant," He finished weakly, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment, tension coiling in his shoulders to the point of snapping. He wanted to lash out at something, find some way to take out his frustration with himself but his body wasn’t up for it and neither was he. He remained entirely still for what felt like an eternity before he turned slowly, crouching in front of Grace as fluidly as he could. "I’m an idiot, I think that’s my problem," He announced quietly, "I think that’s basically the main issue for the day. What say you, Gracie?"

Her blue eyes tracked his movement. He wouldn't yell at her, that wasn't an option. So her anxiety watching him stemmed from...something else. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she tried to figure herself out in that brief moment. Deciding her head hurt too much to do so, she pulled her glasses off instead and leaned back in the chair. A small smile crept onto her face when Nate was in front of her and she wrinkled her nose. "I think that even when you're an idiot, you're still the smartest person I know."

"N-no," He stammered, shaking his head firmly. He’d known Grace forever, at least, it felt like that most of the time - she was his best friend and there was absolutely no way in the world he felt anything more than that for her. If he discounted the fact that that was probably as far from the truth as he could possibly get. "I know that. I— it’s not even my business," He muttered, his hands tightening around his biceps, "I can’t tell you who you can or cannot sleep with, that’s fucking stupid. I don’t care." Okay, so now on top of being a complete dick, he was a liar too. This was absolutely perfect. "I don’t know what’s going on, Gracie. Like I said, it’s probably just the headache."

Nate didn't care who she slept with. Nate didn't care who she was with. He didn't care. It wasn't his business. She was none of his business. Later, Grace would kick herself for stretching and twisting that logic, but right now that was all she could focus on. Somehow she managed to curl up even tighter, withdrawing at his words. "Right, you don't care. Got it. Message received, loud and clear." Her lips pursed together and she looked past him, feigning interest in the wall behind him. "Take an Advil then. Or have a drink like I originally suggested."

It was like a freight train crashed through the wall as soon as he noticed Grace was visibly upset. He’d never snapped at her seriously, and they’d known each other for ages by that point— the thought that he’d upset her at all made his ever present nausea even worse. “I—” He started to speak, closing his mouth after a few vague syllables, “I’m sorry.” His voice was half muffled by the hand he was running over his face and he’d curled into the chair he was in until he was all but folding in on himself. “It’s just— I don’t know— this fucking headache or something, I’m not… thinking clearly.” He cringed a bit behind his hand, thoroughly annoyed with himself.

Grace cared about Nate, maybe even more so than herself. They lived in the same dorm suite, spent all their time together, and knew each other inside and out. But they didn't fight. So this? This toxin, leeching into their words and emotions? This made her nauseous. Or maybe that was the fifth tequila shot from the night before. "I played some games of bp at the football house and he walked me home Nate, I swear nothing happened. I-if that's why you're upset, I mean." She itched her nose against her knee before resting her chin on top of it, looking over at him. "What's going on, Nate?"

"I’m not sure that’s possible," He muttered under his breath, leaning back and matching Grace’s grimace with one of his own almost immediately. "I didn’t say it did, I just think he’s a douche." He shifted in place and crossed his arms petulantly, "Yeah, well, good for him. I’m sure he’s a thrilling conversationalist." He replied acerbically, glaring down at the floor without saying another word. It was stupid, for him to be acting like a cranky three-year-old about something that ordinarily wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest. He blamed the hangover entirely.

Looking around their small common room, Grace tried to piece together the night before. She really didn't have the higher brain function to try and solve the riddle of Nate's sass today. Despite that failure due to her spectacularly staggering hangover, she needed to know what was going on with him. Pulling her knees up to her chin, she held herself together. "I don't know why you're being such a jerk about this. I'm hungover too, no need to make me suffer anymore."

"Fuck off, I’m whispering. It’s not my fault hangovers exist. I know that whole, ‘hair of the dog’ bullshit theory thing is something people do - but no more drinks. I’ll puke if I even smell alcohol. The quarterback? Really? That guy’s a fucking tool. Like, a grade A tool. King of Tool Mountain. Shrines could be built in honor of his douche-baggery." He frowned seriously, "You could do way better."

"Whisper softer," She groaned, holding her head in her hands. "Maybe we'll vomit, maybe it'll take the edge off. I feel like we should find out." Grace raised her sunglasses and squinted at Nate, her best grimace on her face. "I didn't say anything happened. I just said I woke up in his jersey. Hence why it was noteworthy. He's not that bad, though. He's in my psych class and he's actually kind of smart."

"Gracie, I have no idea what happened last night— I think somewhere after the fifth shot, I lost track of everything." Nate hummed and rubbed the back of his neck slowly, "What I do know— I woke up with three different phone numbers and what might be a winning lottery ticket stuffed in the waistband of my pants. And a hangover that’s turned me into the douche you see before you, is it always frowned upon to wear sunglasses inside?"

"Shhh, Nate. I know you're being you and that's awesome but shhh. Shush your face. There's an elephant playing a symphony with lots of cannons in my head and you're not helping. Just shh. I woke up wearing a football player's jersey. I think it's the quarterback's. Everything else was normal, I was just wearing his jersey. I need some advil. Or a drink."